


Pillow Talk

by TCRegan



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:19:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke likes to boast about what Anders sounds like in bed. Sebastian is concerned with the over-sharing.</p><p>Written for the kink meme prompt here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11381.html?thread=50232949#t50232949</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt called for Fenris "or someone else if you prefer". I felt Sebastian's concern was more appropriate for this setting. Thanks to Vee for titling it.

Everyone in Hawke's circle of friends was used to his boastful stories. He wasn't a modest man. And as Hawke was often generous both with coin and his time, and gave his help freely and without complaint, his friends loved and respected him. Even if they didn't always agree with him. His loud and often vehement protestations at the way mages were treated didn't sit well with the majority of the group, but unless directly challenged – or if Anders was directly challenged – he didn't go out of his way to start an argument. And this evening was no exception, sitting around the Hanged Man, which was quite full. Norah and Edwina were busier than usual, but thanks to Hawke's generous tipping, their table was seen to first and frequently. 

The ale was flowing, Wicked Grace in full swing, and the only one not playing was Anders. At the very least, Hawke reasoned, he was _there_. Too often did he spend his nights at Hawke's estate, waving Hawke on ahead to his night of socializing while he worked. And he was still working, but he was participating occasionally in the conversation, while he ate three helpings of whatever stew Hawke ordered, and slowly drank from a cup of watered wine.

"No one wants to hear about your heroic triumph over the old man with the walking stick," Anders teased as Hawke started in on another tale.

Hawke covered a belch with the back of his hand before grinning, tossing a card down. He reached over, gripping the back of Anders' neck, and massaged lightly. "All right, fine. I'll tell a different story. Hum. I know." He smirked. "How about when I came home the other night from running an errand, and you were so happy to see me…"

Anders blushed, feeling the heat rising in his face. He ducked his head, concentrating on the paragraph he was writing as Hawke continued. He remembered the night in question all too well.

"It started as a regular kiss."

"Hawke," Aveline said warningly. "I'm not sure any of us wants to hear this."

"I do," Isabela said, leaning forward.

"Gave me a real proper welcome home," Hawke said, his voice low as his fingertips slipped under the collar of Anders' coat. "Remember, sweetheart? You couldn't wait to suck my cock."

Merrill covered her mouth and giggled, while Isabela licked her lips. Aveline's glare matched Fenris's, and Sebastian blushed almost as red as Anders, while Varric grabbed a pen.

"Maker, he's so pretty when he's on his knees. Amazing cocksucker, too." Hawke chuckled. "But we get in a lot of practice, so that's no surprise."

"Hawke-"Aveline started.

"But what was even better?" Hawke continued, talking over her. "He gets off on it when I pull his hair." He reached up now, tugging a lock of Anders' hair.

Anders kept his eyes on his work, face still quite red.

"Moans like a whore when I fuck his mouth. But damn is it good. I could honestly get off just from listening to him, you know?" He released the lock of hair he wrapped around his finger, and tucked it lovingly behind Anders' ear. "So gorgeous."

"If you're quite done," Aveline seethed.

Hawke shrugged and tossed his cards down. "Show 'em."

He won, too.

-

A few nights later found them gathering in Hawke's mansion for an evening of relaxation. Aveline declined, stating guard duties, and Varric skipped out as well, in order to take care of his many Merchant's Guild responsibilities. Merrill and Isabela arrived early, bringing a basket of cheese and fruit, while Fenris brought several bottles from his inexhaustible wine cellar. Sebastian was there too, currently leaning away from Isabela, who enjoyed draping herself over anyone who allowed it. She gave up ten minutes in and settled instead against Fenris, who smirked, but said nothing.

"You should come to the Wintersend vigil," Sebastian urged.

"The Chantry wants my money, not my well wishes and prayers," Hawke said. He was sitting in an armchair he claimed for himself the day they took the mansion back from the slavers. "I can think of so many better things to do with my time."

"The Chantry-"

"Are we talking about the Chantry?" Anders asked, coming into the lounge. He blearily wiped his eyes, his hair tousled and loose around his face.

"Good nap, love?" Hawke asked, reaching out a hand.

"You should have woken me. I have things to do." But he walked to Hawke and leaned down, allowing the kiss on his cheek.

Hawke used the position to his advantage, tugging Anders down and into his lap. He sat his wine glass aside and kissed him deeply, one strong hand on his thigh, keeping him seated. "Mm. You needed the rest."

Sebastian cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "It's only a few hours, Hawke. If you were there-"

"Oh fine," Hawke agreed, slowly running his hand up and down Anders' thigh.

Isabela grinned, glancing over at Merrill who sat in another armchair, legs crossed, bowl of fruit in her lap. She returned the grin.

"And why were you so tired, Anders?" Isabela asked. "Hawke wear you out?"

"More like he wore me out," Hawke said. "Made me come twice."

Fenris rolled his eyes and turned to stare at the fire, determinedly not listening even as Isabela pressed closer.

"Hawke, perhaps-" Sebastian started.

But Hawke wasn't listening, his hand sliding further up Anders' leg, the other on the small of his back. "Maker, but you should see him in my bed."

"Mm?" Isabela pressed. "He is rather pretty naked."

"I forgot you've had the pleasure," Hawke acknowledged, even as Anders turned red. "That electricity trick? Fucking fantastic. Was he quiet for you?"

She shrugged. "A bit."

"I can make him beg." Hawke gripped his thigh just shy of painful. "He usually likes to ride me."

"Always be on top," Isabela said approvingly.

"You owe me a silver," Merrill said to Isabela. Then, almost apologetically to Hawke, she added, "Isabela made a bet with me that you liked to take it. I argued that you liked to be in charge!"

Hawke smirked. "It's true."

Isabela sighed, reached into the breast pocket of Fenris's shirt, and tossed Merrill a silver before Fenris could protest. She kissed his cheek. "You owed me a sovereign for the last hand. Consider the debt paid."

Fenris didn't argue. A silver now was better than a sovereign later. Sebastian, meanwhile, looked red-faced, and shifted uncomfortably as Hawke's hand disappeared under the hem of Anders' shirt.

"As I was saying," Hawke continued, untying the laces to Anders' trousers. "The other night I had him on his back, knees pressed to his chest."

"Good position," Isabela said approvingly.

"Nice for a long, slow fuck. Remember?" he asked, nuzzling Anders' cheek.

"Yes," Anders whispered.

"So I was fucking him good and slow, and he made the sexiest little whimpering noises. I thought he was going to set me on fire, the way I was teasing him."

"Oh Hawke, you're so mean!" Merrill protested, popping a grape into her mouth. "Did you let him come?"

"Merrill!" Sebastian half-laughed, clearly scandalized.

"Eventually," Hawke shrugged. He slid his fingertips into the waistband of Anders' trousers. "I wanted him to scream my name first. Oh I had him good and begging, so frustrated, he was." He nuzzled Anders' neck, inhaling.

Anders turned into him, tilting his chin, hands on Hawke's shoulders.

"You remember it," Hawke said, as if they were the only two in the room. "'Hawke, Maker damn you. Bastard, let me fucking come. Please.' Oh, if they could've heard you. Your sweet, sexy voice begging me."

Anders let out a breathy moan as Hawke's fingers brushed his cock, half-hard now. Sebastian was the first to leave, hurrying out with a muttered excuse. Merrill giggled and followed, eyeing Isabela, who slid a leg over Fenris's thigh.

"Guest room's all yours," Hawke told her.

"Have fun!" Isabela called, dragging Fenris out.

"Fucking love you," Hawke growled, before pulling Anders down for a kiss.

-

Sebastian was not a prude, not by any means. And he knew that other men had different values in their lives. He would have loved it if he could bring them all away from the pursuit of worldly things, such as sex and money. But he couldn't force the Maker's love on others. They had to find their own paths, seek salvation for their own souls. As Hawke often took on errands and little jobs that helped the citizens of Kirkwall, he said nothing about the underlying want of more gold. And Anders, for all his transgressions against the Maker and the fact that he should be in the Circle, ran a completely free clinic for the people of Darktown and Lowtown. It was selfless, and for that, Sebastian thought he owed it to Anders to extend some friendly advice.

Normally he wouldn't find himself in Darktown without the company of Hawke, but he knew he needed to speak with Anders alone about this. He passed through the streets anxiously, his boots sloshing in some foul and fetid liquid that he was fairly sure wasn't all last night's dirty rainwater. He stopped just outside the doors of Anders' clinic. They were propped open, the sounds of light conversation coming from inside, and the lanterns above the doors were lit. Taking a breath, silently asking the Maker for strength, he stepped in.

"And that's when the sword sliced damn near through my thigh."

Anders laughed, tying off the bandage before helping his patient down off the cot. "Stay off it for a few weeks if you can. And practice with something a little less sharp next time."

"Thanks, Healer," the man said, patting Anders on the shoulder. "Sure I can't offer you a silver-"

Anders shook his head. "I won't take it. Buy your wife something nice."

The man smiled and limped out, nodding briefly at Sebastian as he left. Sebastian stood awkwardly in the middle of the clinic, catching Anders' eye. Anders frowned, looking behind him as if he expected someone else – probably Hawke – to be with him.

"…Something I can do for you, Sebastian?" Anders asked, while clearing the linens from the cot.

"I, ah… wanted to talk to you. About a private matter."

"If you're looking for anti-itch salves, they're on the top shelf if Isabela hasn't gotten to them all first." He turned his back on Sebastian and crossed to the back of the clinic, depositing the sheets in a wash basin.

"What? No! It's about…" He cleared his throat. Anders was acting coldly toward him, and he supposed he deserved it. They didn't exactly get along, and their conversations were often terse. "You and Hawke."

Anders turned now, one eyebrow raised in comic disbelief. "Contrary to what rumors Isabela's been spreading, Hawke and I don't invite others to our bed. Not that I'm not flattered, but the answer is no. Hawke doesn't like to share," he added with a smirk.

Leave it to Anders to jump to the most ridiculous, hedonistic conclusion from an innocent statement. "I was concerned with the way he speaks about you."

"Pardon?" Anders asked, removing his coat and rolling up his sleeves. He sat on a low stool and started to scrub the washing, heating the water with a simple spell.

Sebastian held his tongue. He wasn't here to berate Anders for his haphazard use of magic in a place where anyone could walk in and see. "It may not be my place to say, but I've noticed lately that Hawke delights in speaking about you as if you were…" He felt the heat rising in his face, embarrassed at the topic of conversation, ashamed at the memories of his own debauchery that it brought up. "As if you were his whore."

Anders straightened, turning to look at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

The tone was… amusement? Incredulity? Regardless, Sebastian pressed on.

"The way he describes your… ah. Bedroom activities." He cleared his throat, trying to shove away the thoughts that sprang to mind as Hawke talked about Anders on his knees. He would need to pray after this conversation. "While I might not agree with the things you do, like-"

" _Everything_ I do?" Anders completed sharply. "Sebastian, spit it out. Something's clearly bothering you and the faster you state it, the faster you can leave, and the faster I can get back to doing more important things."

"I think it's disrespectful how he speaks of you, and you deserve better." The words came out in a rush, and Sebastian was surprised with how heartfelt they actually were. Anders might be an apostate and an abomination, but he did good work in this clinic, and he deserved at the very least, a measure of privacy when it came to his life behind closed bedroom doors. "I could speak with him if you prefer. If you're not er… comfortable with telling him."

Anders' mouth was opened, a look of mild surprise as he raised his eyebrows. "I… All right." He shook the water from his hands, stood, and grabbed a towel. "I'm going to explain this once, then I really believe we should never speak of this again."

"Anders, I understand if you feel obligated-"

"Shut up, please. This is difficult enough without your assumptions." He dried his hands off and sighed, pressing his fingers briefly to his forehead while he searched for the words. "Hawke likes showing off. Hawke likes showing _me_ off. At first, yes, I was embarrassed. But it wasn't humiliating and I didn't feel ashamed. He doesn't say those things to make me feel uncomfortable. He… says them because I enjoy it. Maker's breath." He drew in a deep breath, running a hand back through his hair. "It makes me feel good about myself."

Sebastian stared. He wasn't completely naïve to certain kinks both inside and outside the bedroom. He just never thought that someone like Anders – who was so closed off when it came to discussions of his past, outside his apostasy – would actually _enjoy_ the blatant disregard for discretion on matters of the bedroom.

"If it makes you feel any better, Hawke thinks it's funny when you get flustered. So he's doing it as much to embarrass you as he is to build me up." He paused. "And I suppose he enjoys upsetting Aveline a little, too. For as much as she gets on his case about certain things, it's ammunition against her."

Sebastian pursed his lips, arms crossed. He wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation, but supposed that's what friends did – made fun of one another in a comfortable setting. "I see."

Anders gestured toward the door, walking him out. "In short, I'm fine. Hawke's fine. We're all bloody fine. So let's never talk about this again and forget about this misguided concern, and we can go back to mutual animosity where we're both more comfortable."

Sebastian stepped outside, watching Anders douse the lamps. "If it ever changes-"

"It won't. Please go."

"If it does," Sebastian started again, "you can always come to the Chantry."

The mild amusement and slight bewilderment in Anders' face fled at once, replaced by a much darker, more ominous expression. "I will never, ever turn to the Chantry for any kind of 'help'. Good night."

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the door slamming in his face. Irritated, but mollified for now that Anders wasn't in any discomfort or danger from Hawke, he left Darktown for the Chantry in order to think and to pray.

-

Several evenings later found them all back in the Hanged Man once more, this time in Varric's private suite. Hawke had his arm casually around Anders' shoulders, playing idly with his hair, while Anders checked and rechecked his inventory list for the clinic.

"We'll need to go to the coast," he said distractedly. 

Hawke shrugged. "Not a problem. You need something?"

"Mm."

The door opened, and Sebastian stepped inside.

"Choir Boy," Varric greeted. "Thought you'd abandoned us for greener pastures."

"I trust I'm still welcome?" Sebastian asked, gesturing to a chair.

Varric kicked it out from under the table and nodded. "Isabela's always looking to win more coin."

Sebastian sat, his gaze sliding toward Hawke and Anders, the former whispering something into the latter's ear, causing a blush to spread over the fair skin. Anders nodded.

"So," Hawke said loudly, "who wants to hear about what I did to Anders last night?"

Sebastian sighed.


End file.
